“How bad is it?” I asked as I ripped the sleeve from my tunic.
“I’m not sure.”
“This will have to do for now,” I said as I tied my sleeve around his upper arm. Michael flinched when I tightened it with a knot.
“And your face?”
“Mia kicked me when I wasn’t looking.”
“Bitch,” I spat as I gave her a sharp kick in the ribs, followed by another and another. She could die right now under my hand, and I wouldn’t care. My next blow met her jaw, hard. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had loosened a tooth.
“No,” said Michael when I drew back my leg for another jab, this time aimed at the side of her face. He grabbed my arm. “That’s enough. There’s no reason to—”
“But she would have killed you, and me, too, if she was allowed!”
“There’s been enough death for one day.” His grip on my arm tightened.
Of course there had been—but still.
There was no time to argue. Toby was at the edge of the garden, pointing in our direction. “There they are!”
“Fine! But I’m taking this—just in case.” I grabbed Mia’s laser pistol from her stiff hand and shoved it in my pocket. “Run, follow me,” I said, dashing to the right. “With Mia out cold, that leaves four of them and the two SECS,” I shouted to Michael as we cut across the grounds and entered a small grove of trees at the edge of the fence.
“It’s too high,” Michael yelled. “And with those spikes at the top.” He shook his head. Victoria stopped crying and sucked her pacifier. “We’d never be able to get over it.”
“This way!” I shouted, and we ran the fence line, the muscles in my thighs burning.
“What are you doing?” he asked when we hit the shadows behind the mansion, and I turned left to hug the exterior walls and head back to the devil’s tank.
“They won’t expect this,” I said. “And they won’t discover us in there as long as Victoria doesn’t cry.”
Across the lawn, lights flashed through the grove of trees. I knew they came from the two SECS as they led the team toward the fence.
I got down on my hands and knees and, avoiding the broken glass, scurried across the floor to enter the devil’s enclosure. “Can you do it, Michael?”
“Yeah,” he said, crunching up behind me.
“Wait here,” I whispered. We ducked behind the devil’s faux-rock structure. A small tunnel in the fake cave led from the front to the back. I passed Victoria to Michael and stuck my head through the opening to see inside the ballroom.
On the far side of the room, two of Mia’s security members stood with their guns pointed at Dolly and her team. Dolly was sobbing almost uncontrollably, her shoulders heaving harder and harder until she dropped to the floor. I felt my own tears, tears of anger and sorrow, ripe against my hot cheeks.
“Fainted,” said one security guard to the other as he bent over Dolly and felt the pulse in her neck. “Get up,” he said, giving her a hard nudge with his boot.
“Let’s get them out of here,” said the other as Dolly was pulled to her feet.
“What’s going to happen to us?” Dolly cried.
“Move!” he said as he pushed her forward.
The ballroom door opened, and the group disappeared as it closed behind them.
“Let’s go,” I whispered to Michael, sniffling hard to halt my tears.
I shuddered as we passed the bullet-pierced bodies of Heath and the governor on the cold, marble floor, their warm blood mixing into one larger puddle. The Tasmanian Devil lay next to them on its side, its ribcage bloody, its chest heaving, and its teeth bathed in clone blood. The table that had held my gifts was on its side. Claus appeared to be okay, but his case was shattered, and the Faberge egg President Tupelov had given me had rolled to the wall.
Those not spared by the security team’s weapons also lay dead, their bodies limp, their faces twisted and frozen into expressions of fear and pain, many with their eyes opened toward the ceiling like they were asking a higher power for help.
Everything trembled, my hands, my legs, but most noticeably my bottom lip as I stared at the gruesome scene. In my mind, I told all of them I was sorry—so sorry—over and over again until my throat was so tight it was hard to swallow.
“Come on,” I managed to say softly, and like Mia had done, I palmed the laser pistol in my pocket. As we passed Victoria’s stroller, I pulled out her diaper bag and hooked it over my arm.
“Where are we going?” he asked as we crept to the other side of the room.
I put up my finger to silence him and pressed my ear against the door to listen into the hall. “I think it’s clear, but just in case, stay behind me.” When I pulled the gun from my pocket and held it in front of me, Michael sucked in a small breath.
With our backs pressed against the wall, I reached the knob and opened the door. There was no sound, only the light clicking of Victoria’s pacifier. We entered the hall, crossed the foyer, and stopped at the front door of the mansion, my pulse rate so high I felt it pounding in my neck.
“How are you holding up?” I asked Michael. He had to be okay—had to survive this. We’d been through so much together already; I would never get through this without him.
“Good,” he said, though like me he was out of breath, and when he readjusted his hold on Victoria, I saw that the blood on his hand was dried and cracking.
“When the door opens, we run as fast as we can to the limo. Don’t stop and don’t look back. They won’t shoot me, so stay close, and they won’t try to shoot you.”
“But, what if it’s not there, and where will we…”
“Go!” I screamed.
The door opened, and we ran. The limo was straight ahead. The driver was in his seat with his head down, taking a snooze.
“Wake up!” I said as I pulled open the door. The driver jerked to attention. “Get out. Get!” I shouted, pointing the laser gun at his face. “The security team who arrived with us—do you remember them?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice shaking as he clambered to the pavement.
“You work for Heath, not them. Don’t tell that team that you’ve seen us. That’s a direct order from Heath,” I lied.
“Think he’ll listen to you?” Michael whispered after we got in. I started the limo and raced down the driveway. There was no time to fasten Victoria in the car seat. She sat across Michael’s lap, sucking on a bottle he pulled from her diaper bag.
“I don’t know. Hope so. Seat belt. Put it on and hug Victoria against your chest. Here we go,” I said, my heart hammering as I plowed through the wrought-iron gate, which didn’t open fast enough for me.
“Cassie!”
We passed the beach-side cities, weaving in and out of cars, following the route that was still fresh in my memory, and when a yellow light turned red before I could reach it, I hit the gas and plowed through the intersection.
“That’ll trigger a traffic bot, and—” Michael began out of habit, and then shook his head. “I mean, but you still have to watch out for policemen, right?”
I didn’t answer. The tarmac came into view, and I increased my speed as the traffic became lighter.
“Yes! It’s still there.” The flyer was where it was when we left it, and even from our distance, I could see Saul’s silhouette through the front window.
I parked, hitting the break faster than I should have, making the limo burn its tires to a halt. Michael gritted his teeth as he braced his hand against the glove box with his injured arm while holding the baby with the other. I turned off the ignition and we raced from the car.
“Guess what, Saul?” I said when I got inside his flyer. “You’re taking us back to Region Three—now—no questions asked.”
He stood up and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry Miss Dannacher, but that’s against my orders. I’m supposed to wait here until Mia returns with specific instructions for me,” he said smugly. Yeah, and now I knew what that order was—to take the secur
ity team and the bots back to Region Three, cut off all ties to Tasma, and let it slowly die out on its own.
Saul shot me a smart-aleck smile, but his expression changed when Michael entered the flyer out of breath with his blood-stained tunic. “What the hell?” His expression changed again when I pulled the laser gun from my pocket and held it level with his chest.
“And you were saying?” I asked.
“Now wait,” said Saul, holding up his arms. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. A half hour into the reception at the governor’s mansion, the region’s security team opened fire on the prime minister, killing him and his cabinet.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense.” He started to lower his hands but lifted them again when I took a step closer.
“It does make sense,” said Michael. “They tried to kill me.”
“Take us back to Region Three,” I demanded. “The presidents disappeared before the shots were fired. I think Harrington’s behind this.”
“I can’t take you back.”
“Like hell you can’t,” I said, raising my voice. “I’m not like one of you, remember? Your ‘life is precious’ bullshit doesn’t apply to me. Michael wouldn’t be able to kill you, but I could, and I will if I have to. We don’t even need you. Michael can figure out how to fly this thing.”
“It’s not that,” said Saul. He licked his lips and glanced at the flyer’s console. “We’ve still got two minutes before the blockers reset.” He was right. The counter next to the steering lever pulsed with each count. One minute and fifty-one seconds remained.
“Then we wait two minutes. You can at least start the engine, right?”
“Sure can,” said Saul.
“They’re coming!” said Michael.
Two black cars entered the tarmac, and the flyer hummed as Saul started the ignition. I couldn’t tell how many miles away they were, but the movers were two black dots in the distance, and as each second on the counter passed, the black dots grew bigger and bigger.
“Come on,” I shouted to the timer. And as my heartbeat pounded faster than the counter, I wished the seconds matched the rhythm of my pulse.
Forty-eight, forty-seven… I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Victoria whimpered, and I opened them.
Forty, thirty-nine… I could almost hear the movers they were so close.
Nineteen, eighteen… Michael soothed Victoria by smiling down at her and calling her his sweet girl.
Eleven, ten… The cars jerked to a stop and Mia sprang from the passenger seat, limping and barking orders we couldn’t hear.
Five, four, three… Toby lifted his laser pistol, but Mia pushed his hand down.
Two, one… The flyer lifted from the ground, taking me away from the one place I thought I might have made a home with my daughters.
“Don’t worry, Saul,” I said, my hands shaking as I tucked my pistol in my pocket. “They won’t try to shoot us down. They won’t risk hurting me or Victoria.” I wiped the perspiration from my forehead.
Chapter Four
“Let me take a look at your arm,” I said to Michael once we were settled in the flyer.
He pushed up his sleeve, slowing when he reached the wound.
“Just what I thought,” he said, gritting his teeth as he poked the swollen, blood-caked skin with his finger. The gash was a perfect half-circle of missing flesh from his upper arm, its center bright red and bubbling with burned skin. “A graze, but it hurts like it’s worse than it is. I’ll be fine, and so will this.” He gently tapped his bottom lip and dabbed his tongue over the split.
I ran my fingers down the side of his face and kissed his forehead. Victoria cooed, and I kissed her, too, thankful they were both alive.
“So where exactly am I taking you? You think they’re not going to be waiting for you when this thing lands?” asked Saul over his shoulder.
“Cassie, we have to figure this out soon,” said Michael when I didn’t answer. He leaned against me and kissed the top of my shoulder.
“Remember me,” said Saul, raising his wrist. “I’m banded, and this flyer has trackers. Because this is a high-security flyer, communication is more limited than it is on the flyer I’m usually assigned to. But as soon as we’re in range of Liaison Three, which will be in exactly ten minutes, they’ll know precisely where we are. And as soon as they do, they’ll point an obscura in our direction and read my band.” He tapped the steering lever with his thumb. “And don’t even think about having me turn around and take you back to Tasma, either. The blockers won’t allow it.”
Did I know where we were going? Did I even have a plan? No. All I knew was that staying on in Tasma wasn’t an option. We wouldn’t have lasted a day without being caught.
If we were caught, I wasn’t sure what would happen. Shen-Lung had been so grateful, sympathetic, and genuinely concerned for my well-being. I couldn’t imagine he was involved in any of this. So, if he wasn’t, then where was he? He and Tupolev had disappeared just before the attack.
Harrington had to be behind this, and if he found us, I knew exactly what he’d do—kill Michael and force me to live in his region where the project would be under his control. Victoria would be taken from me once again, and I’d be a broodmare, locked away and forced to have daughters who I’d never know.
I looked out the window and tried to gather my thoughts. The water below was calm. Occasionally, the surf rose with a fringe of white foam, but for the most part, it grew in soft swells that lapped and rolled gently under the weight of sea fowls. In the distance, Region Three looked benign.
“How far away are we from Melbourne in miles? I mean Division Three, Subdivision Two,” I asked.
“According to the flyer’s readings, we’re about eight miles away. When we reach a mile, we’ll be in range of the region.”
“What’s the water temperature in Fahrenheit?”
“Sixty-eight degrees.”
“What the hell are you thinking?” asked Michael.
“These cushions,” I said, ignoring Michael and pinching the corner of the one beneath me. “Do they float?”
“Float? I don’t know,” said Saul. “And by the way, you have five minutes left.”
I frowned. “What do you mean you don’t know? What if this flyer was forced to make a water landing?”
“The flyer would float. It’s been designed to,” said Saul like I was totally idiot.
“But if it broke apart, and the passengers had to stay afloat. There has to be some kind of safety equipment on board. Life vests or something.”
“No,” said Saul. “That would never happen, so there’s no need.”
“Then we use these cushions.” I pulled the one from the seat behind me and gave it a squeeze. It was light. It felt like it was filled with some kind of solid foam, and the vinyl cover looked waterproof. “Take us to just over one mile from the shoreline, and then get the flyer as low as you can get it. Michael, take off your shoes and socks,” I said as I pulled off my boots. “But take them with you.”
“Two minutes,” said Saul, and the flyer dropped to meet the ocean swells below.
“When they contact you, please tell them we forced you to drop us off on the other side of Tasma, and then you promptly came back to Region Three to report what happened.”
“Cassie, this is crazy. What about Victoria?” asked Michael.
“This is her raft and my life preserver.” I pointed to the longest cushion. “There’s no time to argue about this. We have to do this now, even with your injured arm.”
“We’re just about one mile,” said Saul.
“Open her up.”
“Please, Saul, don’t tell them the truth,” said Michael.
The door opened, and a small wave hit against the bottom of the door frame. “Here we go, sweet girl,” I said with a forced smile as I eyed the next cresting wave that would take me, take us, farther from Tasma.
Saul said one
mile, but it seemed farther, especially when the next series of swells came high enough to block my sight of the shore.
We can do this. We have to, I told myself, but cringed when another wave erupted and crashed, sending a splash of foam against my shins.
I laid Victoria across the cushion, took the laser pistol from my pocket, shoved it into the diaper bag, and set it and my boots next to her. Pushing the cushion out the door, and still holding its edge, I let my bottom half sink into the sea.
The water was cold, its chill sinking into my bones as the flyer’s exhaust pressed against me. A spray of water hit my back. With a kick, Michael was next to me, clutching his cushion and shoes with his good arm. Caught within the whirl of churned water, we took deep breaths, saving our energy until the flyer lifted and the water settled.
“How long do you think it will take?” he asked as we kicked toward the closest point of Australia.
“I’m not sure. One mile. I’m thinking an hour max.”
“An hour? There’s no way.”
“Oh, yes there is. Because it’s the only way. We do what we have to do. We can do this. The current is in our favor, and with these cushions, all we have to do it kick.”
“But for an hour?”
“Yeah, Mister I’m-a-clone and I’ve never had to over exert myself before.” My teeth clattered.
“What about hypothermia?”
“You’re the doctor. You should know.”
“I’m a geneticist and transplant surgeon, not a physician.”
“We should be fine,” I said as a swell rose, bringing Victoria and me closer to Michael. “We once had a grad student on a dig who was an avid surfer, and he told stories about surfing all day without a wetsuit in water that was only sixty-five degrees.”
“Yeah, we should be fine. I’m just worried about Victoria either getting too hot or too cold.”
Her blanket was damp in two places from a ripple that kicked water onto the cushion before I could block the wave with my body, but she didn’t appear to be cold. I kept her head and body covered with the blanket to protect her from the sun, and every time I peeked underneath it to give her a big smile, she’d smile back at me and kick her legs. So far, she seemed rather content, and within half an hour the bob of the cushion had rocked her to sleep.
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